Of Peaches and Prufrock
by libra96
Summary: It was tradition for a Goblin King to take a human bride but what bride would want to be tied to one such as their King? The story said that only the light of a falling star willingly given could illuminate the void of the Kings absent heart, but why would being of purity want to shine on something so depraved?
1. Chapter 1

It seems strange to me that I'm posting a Mabill fic. after wanting to kill Bill (no pun intended) for how he tricked Mabel in the last episode but here I am :-/

This story is dedicated to Kinzichi, the friend who got me into both the tv show and movie I am writing about. Without you this story would not exist, I would not know the joy and tears they have brought me, and I would have felt the phantom sorrow of having not met a true and wonderful friend. Thank you for all of it!

 **Prologue**

Something essential to know about Goblins is that they are not, inherently, evil. This would seem a strange declaration for to an outside perspective it would not seem irrational to say observe that the creatures must have been forged in hellfire. This is not so, for however cruel they may seem Goblins are not inherently bad, nor however, are they inherently good. They are instead, true agents of chaos. They all have a natural desire to cause mischief and mayhem which is unfortunately often at the expense of they humans they find so amusing to torment, hence the perception of theirs as a vile race.

However, despite the Goblin races' affinity for madness, their society itself (for Goblins are indeed organized enough to have one) is actually very orderly and defined by a number of rules and laws both written and assumed. For example; all goods and services must be paid for up front (could you imagine a Goblin using credit?), peaches are never to be handled or sold under any circumstance, Goblins may 'play' with mortals but are never to engage one as doing so would endanger the species and the secrecy of their home. Goblins must serve in the army of their monarch (although the amount and quality of the training they receive, if any at all, depends on the their general at the time) and must always be ready to respond to a call to arms. Goblins may perform magic befitting their rank, and above all, Goblins must pay total respect and be completely obedient to their monarch.

Goblins have a social hierarchy with four major levels: Frea, Tri, Trom, and the Monarchy. The Frea are at the very bottom of the social order and often filled the roles of servants to the Trom and Monarchy, but primarily they are the guides and keepers of the Goblin Kings Labyrinth, giving their class a strange power by being the only Goblins that could successfully navigate the deadly maze. The Tri are mostly merchants or skilled tradesmen, creating and selling goods and services. They are beholden to no single master besides the King and make up the largest portion of Goblin society. They are the ones that often steal up to the mortal world and cause mischief like starting fights or untying ones shoe laces, and are so quick and cunning that to even catch sight of one is nearly impossible. The Trom are the generals of the Kings army, setting themselves above the rest for being able to get any of the others to listen and obey them. There were not money Goblins who could accomplish such a task and so of this group there are few, but they are the ones who make sure the Kings orders are carried out, and so are very essential. Then there is the King, with complete and total power, the title passed down from parent to child (though none can seem to recall the current Kings parents), and the most powerful of all the Goblins. The regular laws of Goblin society did not apply to the King: the monarch may give peaches to those they wished to enthrall, they may take goods and services without paying, and they may interact with mortals. This interaction with humans allowed, it was encouraged, expected even, as it was tradition for a Goblin ruler to take a human bride.

Let it not be said that the Goblins' monarch was a poor King. His temperament made him an excellent ruler of their race with his swinging moods and manic emotions kept under the controlled façade of a relaxed and carefree being. He knew how to throw celebration and make the most of revelry in a way that kept his subjects in good humor. He was mischievous bordering on cruel, and so was the best trickster of them all, finding new ways to torment mortals and was the best at twisting his words to hide their true meanings. These talents made him an inspiration and something like a hero to all of Goblin-kind. He was also masterful at finding any way to achieve his desires. He was said to have sacrificed his eye for omnipotence, so well was he able to predict the movement and forces of the world around him and the motivations that drove it. He mapped it in his mind as though he were recording the constellations of the night sky. No, he led the Goblins well, better than perhaps any King before, but never had any King seemed as out of reach as this one.

There were many stories about the current Goblin King. There were story's that said that his father was the night sky and that it was Chaos herself that bore him. Another story said that his blood was made of liquid nightmares and that if you looked into the gaping hole where his left eye should have been under the triangular cloth that he hid it under, the terrors of those nightmares would spill into your mind and drive you mad. It was generally believed that his hair was made of woven gold carefully sewn into his skull. One story said that where his heart should have been (for Goblins do have them, strange and lopsided as they are) there was only a void, and woe unto any being foolish enough to seek mercy or compassion from what was not there. It was whispered that the King did not and could not truly care for anything or anyone other than himself. There were tales of how once the King had had a vision of fire and death raining down from the sky and covering the worlds both above and below in black and grey despair, and when he had awoken from it he had laughed until the walls of the castle had trembled with the for of his cackles.

"How then", the unhappy subjects who were the recipients of these stories would murmur to one another as they trembled, " could our King ever find a bride who would not immediately die of sorrow and fear at belonging to one such as he. Our lives shall be thrown into horrible disorder should he somehow meet his end for he has no heirs and has named no successors. We may spiral into war over such matters and our blood will spill over this folly!" Then they would shake and weep openly in the face of their despair for their futures.

There was one rumor among the many stories of their King, which gave these fearful Goblins a semblance of hope to grasp in the face of their fears. As it was said that their King had dreamt of destruction and cruelty and laughed, it was also said that he had once dreamt of a falling star. It had been dazzlingly beautiful and had filled the surrounding darkness with light and color. It was said that the King had reached out towards the star, filled with an overwhelming desire to catch it and hold it to his chest, but it had soared away from his eager fingers and came instead to rest at the top of a tall, sturdy evergreen. The bristles of the tree cradled the star at its top and the whispering of the wind blowing through its branches mingled with the soft chimes the star emitted, twinkling happily and contentedly out of the Kings reach. He had ranted and raved, begged and sobbed, even attempted to burn the tree but every time he touched it the branched would swing at him and knock him down or the star at the top would scream so horribly it crippled him. He had yet to figure out how to get the star to come down and it gave him great discomfort to not be able to obtain what he desired even if only in a dream.

"It was a vision of his bride" the Goblins spoke to one another, "it was a prophesy of our salvation."

In the end though, it was only a rumor and Goblins are known to be horrible gossips and certainly none of them had the courage (or stupidity) to ask the King about it, so they simply held on to their hope. A hope that one day a star might fall to them and give light to their fate and the fate of their world.


	2. The Forest

Chapter 1

Our story begins in this way:

 _Once there was a boy who very much wanted to understand the oddities of the world. As a child he had always felt as though he didn't belong due to his strange six fingered hands that he was constantly mocked for. When the boy became a man he decided to learn all he could about the way the world around him worked, and once he felt he had learned all he could, he left the town he lived in and went out into his country in search of Strangeness. Perhaps he searched for such things because he felt drawn to the unknown. Perhaps he searched for such things because he felt dissatisfied at how little we really know about the universe. Perhaps he simply wanted to feel like he wasn't the strangest one out there for it is a heavy thing to feel the loneliness of an outlier._

 _He searched for a place that would have the most Strangeness in it, a place where he could live and work in peace, and have plenty of opportunities to research whatever he found there. He found a small town at the edge of his country surrounded by a forest that felt ancient with mystery and an open armed community who wouldn't mind a strange scientist living alone at the edge of the forest. He decided to move there immediately and built a house where he would live and conduct his studies. He also called his friend who had also learned of the world as he had and asked him to help in his research, and his friend, who loved him dearly, agreed to come straight away._

 _The land was a treasure-trove of Strangeness, and the man and his friend were constantly afloat in a sea of information and the strange magic of the forest. They delved into the workings of the magic they found, into how the creatures they discovered came to be, and how they might begin to show the rest of the world the wonders they encountered daily. The man was content with his life, his mind constantly expanding and in the company of his friend. His world was colored with happiness the shade of a golden sunrise._

 _However, life cannot remain in a state of perfection, just as the morning must give way to midday and twilight, eventually the man found him-self stuck at a puzzle he could not solve. Never had there been something in the man's life that his intellect could not eventually resolve and the feeling of inadequacy this caused him ate up his days and his happiness. His friend attempted to support him and offer his own advise, but even so the man could not move forward with his research and soon became desperate._

 _On one of the days he left his house, unable to bear remaining indoors, and ventured deep into the forest, not sure what he was searching for except escape from his current situation. He wandered in aimless melancholy and eventually came to rest at the roots of an apple tree where he fell into a fitful slumber under the midday sun. When he awoke he found the world around him devoid of all color and time frozen. Birds were stuck mid flight, the apples in the tree above him were grey, and a golden humanoid creature was hovering above him grinning manically. Startled by the creatures' sudden appearance the Scientist let out a yelp and scrambled to get away, but the regal being dressed in flowing golden robes that matched the luster of its hair held up a hand and giggled._

" _Ho ho!", the creature chortled, "How funny you humans are. You need not fear me human (though there are many that do) for I mean only to help you not harm you." With that the creature settled on the ground most gracefully, held out an arm towards the man and bowed. " I have heard tell of a human with a particular brilliance that set them apart from the others of their kind, who had an interest in the subject of Magic._ I _-" the being declared gesturing grandly towards itself, "happen to be quite the expert on such topics. The muse of magic you could say, I am quite impressed with you human and wish to aid you in your studies."_

 _The man, under other circumstances, would have felt great suspicion towards the being and its offer of help, but at that moment he found the creature so dazzling, and so eloquently flattering, that he could not muster up any feelings of mistrust. However, the human, as blinded by flattery as he was, was still clever and knew that creatures, such as the one before him seemed to be (old and powerful), did not do anything for mortals without a price._

" _What would you have of me in exchange for your guidance?" he questioned._

 _The creature grinned a golden grin._

"Diiiiiiiperrrrrrr"!

The young man in question groaned as his sisters call echoed through the shack and yanked him from the semi-sleep he had been enjoying. A glance at the clock showed it was nine in the morning, and pulled another groan from him. It wasn't even that late what on earth was she yelling about? Dipper picked his phone up from where it was charging on his bedside table and glanced at the date. He shot up and his eyes widened as he realized, it was their birthday, that's why Mabel was yelling, and….oh shit he was late! Dipper shot out of bed, previous drowsiness forgotten, and dug through a nearby clothes pile for something that smelled decent and wasn't too wrinkled.

Dipper and his twin sister Mabel were over at their Great Uncle Stan's for yet another summer. At fifteen Dipper had moved permanently into the secret room their handyman and great friend Soos had discovered when they were both twelve. They gotten into a fight about it then and ended up in each others bodies because of the fight and… anyway, the twins birthday signaled the end of the summer, and it had become a tradition for the Pines twins to hold a massive birthday party at their Gruncle's tourist trap and home The Mystery Shack, that doubled as an end of summer celebration for the whole town to enjoy. Their Gruncle had been a bit resistant to the idea the first year when they had turned thirteen, but the two had worn him down (Mabel with her puppy eyes, and Dipper with a well organized list of why the party was the best idea ever), and it soon became an event the whole town looked forward to.

This year, however, was more special than most, because this was the year the siblings turned eighteen. Dipper had been stressing for the whole summer on what to get Mabel (he knew her gift to him would be amazing like always and tried to step up his game), and last night he had finally decided on the perfect gift, but if he didn't head into the forest RIGHT NOW he wouldn't have it before the party prep began!

Dipper sprinted out of his room and rounded the corner only to have a colorful something explode in his face. He skidded to a halt coughing a sputtering, as he spat out bits of colored tinsel. A confetti bomb? Only one could be responsible. He turned abruptly and managed to grab hold of his giggling sister before she could escape and tackled her to the floor, grabbing as much of the confetti as he could from the floor and rubbing it into her hair as she squealed.

"Gaaahh, Dipper get off, don't be a grump cause I got you!"

"Now I've got you so we're even!", he retorted and they both collapsed as he let go of her, giggling helplessly.

"You kids are gonna make me deaf before my time at this rate!", came a grouchy but amused shout from the kitchen. A few minutes later Stan walked into the hall and watched as the two siblings tried to reign in their laughter, but the picture of their Gruncle in his underwear, and a pink frilly apron holding a frying pan that most likely held their breakfast had them dissolving all over again. The old man rolled his eyes and grumbled, "You two are legally adults today but heck if you ever actually grow up."

At this Mabel started pumping her arms above her head with fisted hands and chanted "Technically adults! Technically adults!" before she sat up abruptly, her eyes wide and whispered, "I could adopt another pig all on my own now." She turned to her Great Uncle and joyfully exclaimed, "Waddles can finally have a brother!"

"Absolutely not" was the man's immediate response, and Dipper sat up as he began trying to brush the rest of the confetti off his flannel button down.

"But Gruncle Staaaaaaan you know I'd take great care of them, and I could totally afford it and I could sent you money to feed them while I'm at home and…"

"Nope." The man wisely turned away from his niece as she began. It was no secret that he would cave eventually but he could put up some resistance…. for a little while. Dipper shook his head and smirked before getting to his feet and helping his sister up.

"We're eighteen Dip can you believe it?!" Mabel was bobbing up and down with barely contained energy. "We can order stuff from TV and buy a car and no one can tell us what to do and-"

"Mabel you have to obey the law still you know" Dipper cut in, amused and slightly concerned.

"Oh don't kill the buzz Dippin Dot today we go CRAZY!" and with that she threw her hands up and glitter was thrown into the air.

"Where did you-?"

"We're gonna start decorating ASAP right?"

Oh crap, 'okay' Dipper thought to him-self 'play it cool', she could NOT know he was getting her present, it had to be a surprise. " I-I w-was going to go into the woods really quick there's this new, uh, moss that I want to get a sample of and-"

"Oh come on Dip moss?"

"Uh. Glowing moss?"

Mabel fixed him was a Very Unimpressed look. "You're not going to try to meet that centaur again are you?"

"What? No-look I've got to go okay, I promise I'll be back by one!"

"But you promised to help me weed and dazzle the garden!"  
"No one is going to care if the garden has weeds Mabes and do the flowers _really_ need sparkles? I mean they're flowers."

"I will and yes Dipper, that's not up for debate!"

Dipper sighed feeling a bit guilty. He _had_ promised but this was more important.

"I really need to go Mabel but I'll be back to help decorate the party room and set up outside okay?" he looked beseechingly at her.

Mabel gave him a searching look with her arms crossed in front of her before she demanded, "Only if you promise with a 'Mystery Twins' handshake."

"Done." Dipper grinned and held out a fist.

"Blip, blop, bloopety bloop, twins".

And they both pointed at each other as they blew a raspberry.

"I'll be back soon!" Dipper called out as he jogged through the living room.

"Don't be late!"

"Kid where the heck are you going?" called Stan as Dipper breezed past him towards the gift shop.

"Not a kid anymore and I'm running an errand. I'll be back soon." Mabel's gift was of the magic kind, and it wasn't worth explaining.

After all, Gruncle Stan didn't believe in that stuff.

"Wendy's coming by later to set up the lights. You'd better be here to help her!"

Dipper picked up his backpack from where it lay by the door and exited the shack shouting an "okay" over his shoulder.

The weather was perfect, not humid but warm, sky blue with a few fluffy clouds drifting past, as thought they glided on the surface of a calm lake. A breeze drifted through the leaves of the trees at the edge of the woods, the whispering sound rising from their tops and sending a shiver down Dipper's spine. This was where he belonged, in the dim light and rich green of the woods. Dipper crossed the tree line with sure steps, inhaling the scent of baking pine needles and fresh air. He was searching for a special kind of flower, which, according to the journal, had the power to grant small wishes with each petal you plucked such as, for example, a wish for pink hair, or for bubbles to come out of your mouth when you talk, or for yarn to turn a different color. It wasn't nearly what she deserved putting up with and loving him for eighteen years but Dipper hoped it would be enough for his sister.

He secured his backpack, straightened his signature blue cap and crossed the threshold, into the haze of magic the forest kept.

…..

Mabel settled in the garden behind the Mystery Shack that she had planted and tended for the past three years. She had begun it after she and Dipper had gotten themselves in a situation that required them to need a weird array of herbs to make a potion to satisfy a griffin. The griffin had turned out to be, as Soos would say, a 'pretty righteous dude" and indulged them in a joy ride in the sky now and then, but having to scramble for mint and lambs ear, and a daisy among other things had been such a pain, that Mabel suggested they just start to grow their own "magic plants" just in case. Gruncle Stan had given her a patch of land behind the Shack to try out the idea with a shrug, a curious gleam in his eye, and an air of disbelief, and Dipper had been less than enthusiastic at first insisting they didn't have the time to tend a garden and that with them only being there during the summer they could never keep it up. However, once Mabel discovered her green thumb, and the first batch of seeds began to sprout beautifully, he quickly scoured his journal for all plants mentioned and instructed her on how to best tend them. When they went home for the summer that first year she had been worried they would loose all their hard work, but when they came back to a tended, and clean patch of soil…well Stan would never admit that he had any part of it, but his gentle smile when he thought they weren't looking betrayed him.

Of course, because she was Mabel, she had to add some touches of her own to make the garden not only useful, but pretty as well, so she planted an array of flowers, and would arrange the pattern in which they grew differently every year.

"Each summer is different, and so are we", was her reasoning when Dipper questioned her about it, "the garden should be different too." As Dipper was more of the research guy, she was the one who was more often actually doing the planting and tending, and while she didn't mind the calming work it was always more preferable to do so with a companion, and today Dipper had said he would join her. She sighed as she pulled out her ipod and adjusted her earbuds, he was always in motion, whether mentally or physically and very forgetful, of course there was something else he had to do this morning. Oh well, she reasoned, she would find a way to make him suck up for it later, cause her gift for him was the coolest ever, and now he had to work a little for it!

She scrolled through her playlists and landed on one of her nerdy favorites. She pressed play.

 _Early one morning, Peter opened the gate and walked out into the big green meadow._

Dipper successfully stepped over a fallen tree trunk and managed not to slip on the wet moss by a running stream, so by the time he narrowly missed a swarm of fairies headed straight for his head, he wasn't sure if he was having a lucky day or if somehow the universe was saving all the negative up for later. He really hoped it was the first option. Glancing down at the map he had created and expanded on since he was thirteen, he was able to keep his head from spinning long enough the try to rationally address the magic of the Gravity Falls forest.

"Okay take a left at the Kaleidostone, and keep on the path." Dipper muttered to himself as he passed a sort of rock that seemed to glow from within as multiple patterns shifted across its surface. In front of him was a barely discernable path through the underbrush of the forest easy to lose with unknown dangers ahead but at least he knew he was going the right way.

 _On a branch of a big tree sat a little bird, Peter's friend. "All is quiet" chirped the bird happily._

 _Just then a duck came waddling round. She was glad that Peter had not closed the gate and decided to take a nice swim in the deep pond in the meadow._

Mosquitoes were attacking him more viciously than the pixies would have. Honestly he would have preferred the pixies because the repellant for those was a spell he could conjure up in no time, but mosquitoes? Only he would forget bug spray in the middle of August, at least his bug bites didn't seem to be spelling out ominous warnings this time. He was nearing the end of the hidden path…. or at least he thought so. He hadn't kept the most detailed account on how to reach the location of this flower, it had been more of a day of wandering that led to its accidental discovery, but he'd gone this far and he refused to let Mabel down. She would never give up on him. Sure enough, he reached the end of the path and found his next landmark, a dying tree twisted in the shape of an agonized human. Horrifying at first encounter and downright unsettling every encounter afterword but now he knew he was still on the right track. He took a right.

 _Just then grandfather came out. He was upset because Peter had gone in the meadow. "It's a dangerous place. If a wolf should come out of the forest, then what would you do?"_

"Mabel!" Gruncle Stan's voice carried over _Peter and the Wolf_ , causing Mabel to pause in her weeding and pull her earbuds out.

"What's up Gruncle Stan?" she hollered back, slightly disoriented from being so abruptly jolted from her focus on her music and task. Stan stalked his way over to her, finally dressed in his trademark suit and red fez.

"Where's your brother Wendy's gonna be here any minute?"

"She is!?" Mabel felt a splitting smile overtake her face at the prospect of seeing her friend so soon. Months away from the older girl and shared Snapchats and phone calls had Mabel very excited to see her in person.

"He's not back yet." She glanced towards the tree line wondering absently what he could possibly be doing in there that was taking the whole morning, _and_ risk him getting to welcome Wendy back to the Falls.

"Well he'd better hurry up or I'm not warning him about any pranks Wendy might set up." She didn't miss, try as he might to hide it, the subtle current of worry in his tone.

Mabel gave her Gruncle a smirk and reassured him, "You know how Dipper is, the dork probably got attacked by pixies again." Stan sighed in exasperation before shaking his head in both a fond and fed up manner before heading back to the Shack.

Everything was fine. Mabel's eyes darted from the trees to her garden. A warm breeze rustled her hair around her shoulders and disturbed the leaves of the forest. She shivered and rearranged herself before pressing play on her ipod. She was being ridiculous, everything was fine.

 _But Peter paid no attention to his grandfather's words. Boys like him are not afraid of wolves._

Dipper dragged a weary hand over the stars on his forehead.

 _No sooner had Peter gone, than a big grey wolf came out of the forest._

Shit-okay _now_ he was lost. Really it was only a matter of time he supposed but still, the trip had been going _so well_ and he was positive he was almost there, or at least really close. He had turned at the tree, and passed that purple creek that smelled like basil somehow, and he knew it was a strait shot from there to the grove where Mabel's flower grew, but maybe he had overshot because he'd been walking for the better part of fifteen minutes when it should have taken him five and _man_ was he turned around because he had no idea where he was right now.

Dipper circled back around a few times but he didn't seem to be making any progress. He didn't recognize the trees he was seeing but he was pretty sure these were the same ones he should have passed five minutes ago, so what was going on? Only a minimal amount of sunlight filtered through the thickly packed trees, casting everything into shadow where there should have been golden rays lighting his way. He pulled out his cell phone, electronics usually didn't work in the forest but he hadn't realized he'd allowed himself to hope, before he felt his stomach plunge upon seeing he had no service. He was late by now, he'd probably missed Wendy's arrival, and he still didn't have Mabel's flower so to say he was perturbed was only scratching the surface. Plus this whole area (wherever it was) was making the hairs on his arms and neck stand on end. As adventurous as Dipper Pines was, he knew when to trust his gut, and his gut was currently asking him 'why the heck he was even still here get out!?'

A snapping twig from behind him, caused Dipper to whirl around, head snapping towards the sound of the disturbance, his breath catching in his throat.

Mabel yanked another weed from the soil.

 _In a twinkling the cat climbed up the tree. The duck quacked, and in her excitement jumped out of the pond. But no matter how hard the duck tried to run, she couldn't escape the wolf. He was getting nearer, nearer, catching up with her._

He could hear something breathing in the shadow of the trees. Cautiously, Dipper backed up in the opposite direction of the rasping sound coming from the area directly ahead of him. He didn't know what creature was there with him and for once he honestly didn't care, he just wanted to find his way out of this Mobius strip of the woods he found himself trapped in and away from whatever it was that seemed to be making him its prey. Dippers back hit the trunk of a tree unexpectedly and just as he swallowed a gasp, all the noise in the clearing died out; insect noises, the rustling of the tree, the crunch of the undergrowth beneath his feet, and the breathing, all was silent.

Dipper took a deep breath, turned and sprinted in the direction he had been backing up towards. His heart was pounding and he could feel it in his throat. He had to get out of this area, if he could just get out of here he could find safety. Find the Mystery Shack. He would be okay, he just didn't. Let . This. Thing. Catch. Him. His legs were burning and the sharp sting of branches scratching his face and arms kept him solidly in reality as the adrenaline and panic coursed through his veins. He was prey. Oh God what was chasing him?! He could hear something hitting the earth behind him that sounded like legs, and the breathing was back, now coming out in animalistic huffs, and it was now intermingled with an unearthly mix of a growl and a screech. He couldn't stop. If he stopped he was dead. He just had to keep running. He just had to find his way out.

He turned left and came crashing out a wall of green into an open meadow filled with the very flowers he had been searching for in the first place. He turned in a desperate circle eyes searching his surrounding wildly for any sign of his pursuer but all was peaceful. The clearing was flooded with sunlight and the yellow flowers bled their perfume into the warm breeze. No breathing, no footsteps, no screeching. His breath began to slow and his heart slowly crept back down from this throat to his chest. He bended over and placed his hands on his knees.

He had lost his cap.

 _Then he got her, and with one gulp, swallowed her._

A blur of black and red was his only warning. A sharp stinging pain sprang into his awareness, and looking down he saw red, bleeding through the tattered shreds of his shirt. A muzzle came towards him from his peripheral vision, sharp crooked teeth gleaming and angled for his throat.

"N-!"

Only the flowers were witness to the gurgling of struggling life, and the moment it gave up. Stained red and silent.

Mabel pressed pause. She was finished, and she had always hated this part of the story anyway. It used to make her cry when she was little, and Dipper would hold her hand and remind her that the duck was okay in the end. Wendy was waving to her and, filled with joy and excitement, she bounded over to the redhead, hands covered with dirt and stained green.

In a clearing colored red and gold, a creature with a sharp smile and shining hair, approached the tattered vessel on the ground, and extracted what seemed to be a pulsing light from it.

"Paid" the creature sneered, and vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

 _And now, this is how things stood: the cat was sitting on one branch, the bird on another . . . not too close to the cat. And the wolf walked around and around the tree, looking at them with greedy eyes._

 _Do we have a deal? The Goblin king looked at the man with expectant gleaming eyes, full of intention and empty of empathy. The brother stared long and hard into the distance, before returning his gaze to the golden being. Something seemed to be missing from his eyes now, something essential._

" _Deal."_


	3. Remembering the Future

Chapter 2

" **The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly the one you'll never have."**

-Søren Kierkegaard

If you have ever truly loved someone, understood him or her to be an essential part of your life, then you have at some point, reluctantly entertained the thought of losing them. It might have been during a tedious class lecture, while driving a long stretch of highway, while walking down the hallway towards your office at your place of employment, or perhaps during the dead of night wrapped up in the quilt of your bed, warm and confined, that the thought of them disappearing from your life crawled up from the dark recesses of your mind, and sank its claws into your consciousness. Human beings are fragile as a general rule and we must all grapple with the idea of mortality, but somehow the idea of someone else's mortality is so much more paralyzing than your own. The idea that a day will come to pass when they are no longer here, no longer exist, and the earth will turn on uncaring that something so fundamental in your life has vanished, is a horrifying notion that would shake anyone. It could be a number of things that take them away: they could die in a car crash, their plane could go down, they could simply tire of you and leave you becoming as good as dead where you are concerned, or they could succumb in their sleep to a disease diagnosed too late.

Mabel Pines, being a human being like most of us, had of course entertained these thoughts about her loved ones, and experienced the silent horror of scenario before bundling them up and storing them away in the deep recesses of her mind. Such dark thoughts could not thrive in such a naturally space. These thoughts, however, were just that; thoughts, and were never supposed to be anything else but just that. It was certainly never meant to become her reality.

She sees the thing in snapshots, hears underwater, and moves through molasses, her memories have a better perception of what happened than she did when it was happening. She was walking around to the front of the Mystery Shack with Wendy, laughing and finished with decorating the backyard with streamers, snacks, and balloons. She had set up a karaoke stage. Dipper was late. She rounded the corner of the building, and there, by the tree line was a something in a heap of colors and fabric. She stared at it. She didn't know what it was so she looked harder, but she had never seen anything like it before, and her vision had tunneled until all she saw was the object lying in front of the trees. The wind had picked up, and the pine trees had bowed their heads. Mabel's hair whipped into her face and got in her mouth and Wendy screamed.

Mabel should have startled, gasped, reacted in some way, she was just so _heavy_ why was she heavy, she could move so why didn't she. She ought to at least comfort her friend, who had anguish ripping its way out of her throat. Wendy was gripping her tight, (when had Wendy reached for her) arms and waist caught tight in the circle of her arms as through she was trying to hold her back. Wait, she was closer than before, when had she moved? How could she move when she was so heavy.

"Oh, God", someone (Wendy it must have been), choked behind her. "Dipper."

Where was Dipper? He was still in the forest and he was taking his time. He promised to help her decorate. She had to make him work for his present. He missed welcoming Wendy back. Wendy who was shaking and Mabel couldn't understand whywhowhat, couldn't understand what the object in front of the forest was. Dipper was late.

She saw brown curls on the object; saw a hand. She knew that hair, and she knew that hand. What were they doing there? What was she looking at. When had Gruncle Stan come outside? He was sprinting towards the object. Soos was climbing out of his pick-up truck with Melody behind him. He was back from the grocery store, with the Pitt Cola they had asked for. Their child was in the back seat, honey-haired and rosy cheeked. The child did not get out. Everyone was focused on the object and the trees were bowing. Wendy's tears were soaking the back of her shirt. Gruncle Stan was hunched over the object, his face in his hands, shoulders heaving as he made broken sounds she'd never heard before. Soos was kneeling, Melody behind him one hand on his shoulder and one over her mouth. She saw in snapshots, heard underwater, and moved through molasses. Dipper was late.

Her awareness faded in and out, like focusing a pair of binoculars, the world fuzzy but discernable until the moment all the details are thrown into sharp relief. The knowledge that Dipper was dead and that the object in front of the tree line was his destroyed body, was the catalyst of the first moment of sharp of sharp relief. It was not in her awareness one moment, and then the next it was. She was sure some had told her at some point, had sat her down and tried to break it to her as gently as they could (was it a police man there were so many in the shack and now it was crowded), but the knowledge was not in her mind until one specific and sudden moment.

She became aware that she was sitting on the couch, a blanket around her sweater-clad shoulders (the magenta one with the shooting star on it), with police and friends moving around her. Wendy and her high school friends were in the gift shop speaking in low tones. She was sobbing into Robbie's shoulder. She scanned the room, no purpose in her gaze other than to observe, she felt detached form her body, and her mind did not feel like her own. It was too quiet. It was too loud. She settled on Stan, and he must have seen something she could not feel, because he finished his conversation he'd been having with Blubbs (Gruncle Stan talking to the police?) and sat down next to her, placing his wizened hand on the blanket that covered her. His gaze confused her, it had nausea, shock, deeply etched sorrow, and sympathy, but it also had…at least it looked like… _understanding_. How could he understand? How could he possibly understand what was happening to her? She was half of a whole now. She was a discarded part. She was bleeding from the open wound where her twin should be. She was alone. After that thought she faded back out.

"We'll be there by the day after tomorrow I promise sweetie." Her mother was sobbing into her ear through the phone speaker. Mabel had no reply. Mabel had no memory of being handed the phone, or of anything her mother had said to her prior to this moment. She was aware of the weight of the phone in her hands, and the feeling of the smooth, warm plastic on her cheek. She must have been on the phone for some time or someone else had just handed it off to her. Gruncle Stan was leaning on the wall of the living room (she was still in the living room but now on the rug) with his head in his hands again, unmoving and hunched. He looked defeated. She had never seen him look that way before. Soos walked in, pale and shaking but determined, and place his hand on her Grucle's shoulder. Stan leaned into the touch still hunched, face still hidden. Mabel felt her dried tears on her face, and her hair felt clumped with dried sweat. She wanted to take a shower. Mabel heard her mother sobbing through the phone speaker. She faded back out.

She was sitting on the bathroom floor; the cold tiles beneath her helping ground her for a moment. Someone was behind her pulling a brush through her hair with infinite gentleness, humming what sounded like a Sesame Street song. Mabel could smell jasmine and apples: it was Melody. Her face felt clean now, and her hair was slightly damp. Melody must have washed it for her. That was nice. The brush felt nice. She remembered another time her hair had been a mess and Dipper had shaved his head for her. That was still their favorite school picture. She wondered if her parents still had it. Mabel closed her eyes and stopped paying attention. She faded.

Mabel was lying on her bed. The slanting light shining through the attic window told her it was nearing evening. She was dressed in her night cloths, freshly washed, and currently felt like she was in free-fall. She knew she was done fading and the part of her mind closest to being grounded rebelled, not wanting to face the continuing reality set before her. She was falling but you could only fall for so long before the ground caught up to you. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled, trying to maintain the feeling of suspension and turned her head towards the side of the room Dipper occupied whenever they had an impromptu sleepover or when he wanted some company while he was doing his research.

There was a small desk (Dipper had saved up from his job in Piedmont to buy it second-hand) covered with loose papers, which were themselves covered in code and drawings. An overflowing wastepaper basket sat beside it, full of rejected and imperfect ideas and diagrams. There was a sleeping bag and a pillow underneath the desk. A bookshelf stood in the corner of the attic filled to the brim with any and all genres of books imaginable; some new and some old, some with titles and some with only symbols, some fiction, some non-fiction. Dipper's Journal Number 3 was missing. He had brought it with him when he…he….

Just like that Mabel finished her fall and hit the ground. She turned her head just in time for her wail to be swallowed up by her pillow, and she shook with the ferocity of the sobs that ripped their way out of her throat. She didn't want to live in this world, this twisted reality where she was alone. She was a twin, she was never meant to be alone, she wasn't supposed to know what this felt like, much less live like this for the rest of her life.

The rest of her life.

That was how long she would have to be without him now.

She didn't realize she was still waiting for him to show up, put his arms around her shoulders and hug her until it was better, until she was being hollowed out inside and he was not there for her. He couldn't be. He was dead. He wasn't supposed to be dead. She didn't want to keep thinking about this. She didn't want to wake up every morning and have this be reality. She wanted to have her eighteenth birthday party with her friends and her brother, laughing and singing badly and having the best time of the summer. She wanted to give Dipper his present and see what he had gotten her this year. Had he gotten her a present? Would she ever get it? Did she even still want it if he wasn't there to give it to her? Why was she thinking about _that_?

She was empty where she used to be full and instead of making her feel lighter she was infinitely heavier, as though the world had poured a little of all it was inside of her and it was crushing her chest. She had died with him, or at least, a part of her had. It was the part of her that had Dipper in her life, the part that would have been celebrating their first step into adulthood with him. The part of her that belonged to a future that hadn't yet happened and now never would, and been ripped from her like Dippers body had been ripped apart by whatever had gotten to him, and she mourned it's loss like she mourned him.

She wanted that future back and she wanted the pain gone and she was so afraid that made her selfish to be thinking only about herself and her own pain when her brother was dead. Not yet in the ground.

She couldn't think. She couldn't stop thinking. She needed relief, she needed to gather her thoughts, but her thought were the shape edge of a knife and her fingers couldn't hold them. She wanted to rest. She was so tired. She wanted her brother.

Eventually, she slept.

 _She was in The Club restaurant in town, the red curtains and dim lighting betraying her location immediately. There were no tables, no patrons, no staff, just the empty building with the red chair she was sitting in, a lamp next to another chair across from her, and a couch beside it. All the furniture was black, and the lamplight was yellow. She felt disconnected but present, as though she was in her body but suspended, as though her mind was floating away. Everything felt heavy, and slow. Dipper was sitting on the couch, smiling pleasantly at her, dressed formally in all black with his hair slicked back to reveal his birthmark in all its glory. She wondered if that was odd._

 _A shuffling sound caused her to turn her head, slowly and feeling resistance the whole way. Her eyes eventually landed on a tall figure dressed in what looked like a red version of Gruncle Stan's "Mr. Mystery" suit standing in the corner of the room. There was no fez upon the figures head, and it was turned away from her at the moment, twitching oddly, as though it's body couldn't seem to settle. She turned back toward Dipper, who smirked knowingly at her, and tapped his finger to his nose._

 _All at one the figure turned abruptly with a clap of its hands._

 _It was her Gruncle Stan._

 _Wasn't he?_

" _Let's begin!" the man who was and was not her Gruncle exclaimed, making his way over to the empty chair next to Dipper. The lamp next to the chair made his face glow, but somehow harder to discern, the details becoming obscured in the light. Although she understood his words they came out all odd, as though he were speaking backwards and forewords simultaneously. The man rubbed his hands and she heard a ringing sound. She shadows of the room seemed to shift._

" _I have good news!", the man leaned forwards, his eyes intently trained on her. "That juice you make is going to become the hottest new trend!"_

 _Mabel turned from the Not-Stan and gazed at Dipper._

" _He's my brother." The man explained in his garbled speech, "But doesn't he look almost exactly like Dipper Pines." He leaded towards her as though he was confiding in her. Mabel was puzzled, and she rejected the information even though it must have been true. After all the man would know what his brother looked like._

" _But that is Dipper."_

 _She couldn't help but insist, only Dipper had that birthmark._

" _Where are you Dipper?"_

 _Right?_

" _You_ are _Dipper right?"_

 _Dipper(?) tilted his chin up slightly, and when he spoke his voice was garbled the same as the man, and his face scrunched up as though he was choking on his words. "I'm having a hard time remembering. I tried to tend to the roses, but the thorns tore my hands." When he finished, the pained look disappeared and he went back to smiling serenely, a fond look in his eyes._

 _The man quirked an eyebrow and smiled knowingly, "He is made of secrets."_

 _The man's smile dropped abruptly, and he blinked, as though startled from thought. For a moment she would have said he almost looked sad._

 _Then he glanced back at Dipper(?) and returned to his previous state as though nothing had happened._

" _Where we're from the stars are made of stones, and the peaches are always ripe." Music began playing from all around them, and a flashing light disturbed the dim lighting, as though a giant camera was going off in front of them all. The man rose from his chair and walked towards the source of the flashing, swaying and humming along to the music. Mabel wasn't disturbed, she just kept her eyes on Dipper, who rose from his seat and made his way over to her. He smiled at her and, suddenly overwhelmed with contentment, she smiled back. She wanted to laugh, Dipper was with her, and everything was how it should be. He leaned close to her and she could smell baking pine needles, with something metallic underneath. He kissed her cheek and his lips were cold. He put his mouth by her era, and cupped it with his mouth._

 _He whispered to her._

Mabel jerked awake with a gasp. It was completely dark in the attic now, the sun had set, and the night was well underway. She was shaking and breathing heavily, her mind in turmoil as she tried to keep a grip on the dream she had just had. Dipper had been in it and he had told her something so important, but try as she might she couldn't remember what he had said. Somewhere in her rational mind, she knew it was just a dream but it felt like Dipper had just told her his last words, and she had forgotten them. She wanted to cry all over again. Why had Gruncle Stan been there? Nothing he had said that she could remember made any kind of sense, so maybe it really did mean nothing. She really wanted to go back to sleep so she didn't have to think but she wasn't tired now.

She pulled her rabbit slippers out from under her bed, and walked towards the window, trying to make as little sound as possible, weary of the creaking floorboards. The moon was full, silver light dripping from it, coating everything in shadow and the illusion of wealth, and she shivered as she gazed at it. The forest was still now, the wind had died down, and the pine trees stood tall and proud. She hated it she decided in that moment, she hated the forest that he had loved so much because it had killed him. It had tempted her brother with the promise of discovery and importance, with the unknown and the fantastic. He had mapped it and studied it and devoted so much of his life and mind it its message and history, and it had repaid him with death, spitting out his mangled body like a chewed out piece of gum. Mabel realized she actually didn't know much about what had happened other than Dipper being killed. Did they know what it was that had killed him, and how his body, which must have been deep into the woods at that point, came to be outside the tree line. She hadn't seen anyone there when she and Wendy had…had found it. She wanted to ask Stan but… she wasn't sure she could voice it yet. To talk about it meant it was real, and while she understood what her reality was, she wanted just a little while longer before she had to accept it.

She studied the triangular window before her; its design was strange to her and had always been. It opened by the split going down the middle, which cut directly through what looked (at least to her) like an eye. Dipper couldn't- hadn't seen it but she had always felt like that window was watching her.

For the rest of her life she couldn't have explained why she did what she did next. Perhaps it was because she was exhausted and drowning in grief, making her irrational. Perhaps she was influenced by a spell. Perhaps it was fate. We are not to know. What is certain however, is that Mabel Pines looed directly into the windows eye and murmured quietly, almost like she was praying: "I would do anything to get him back."

The wind picked back up with a moan, and clouds blotted out the moon. The silver quality of the light dulled to gray, and all noise ceased as the world around her seemed to freeze. Her eyes widened and she stumbled back as the window began to glow and bight gold, glaring and harsh against the washed out moon that seemed to make up the pupil of the windows eye.

A manic laugh filled her ears, and what sounded like distant thunder shook her being. She shut her eyes against the noise and the light until the insides of her eyelids were no longer illuminated.

Upon opening her eyes she beheld a beautiful and terrible creature, with a sharp golden smile.

"Well, well, well Shooting Star, you finally called."


End file.
